


the way change is inevitable (and sometimes good)

by tdhna



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Eventual Fluff, M/M, also yukhei is mentioned, bc I love him, but first comes confusion and angst, debut fic heck ye, hyuck is both a confident and a panicked gay, is that a tag?, jaemin and jeno are here for moral support, mark is a great best friend but equally gay, protect jeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 03:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14179398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tdhna/pseuds/tdhna
Summary: There is nothing in the world Donghyuck wants more than to restart; to have a second chance at who he falls in love with. There is nothing in the world Mark wants more than to avoid dealing with change - to not have to step into unfamiliar territory or deal with its possible outcome. The world, unforgiving and relentless in its blessings, gives the pair of best friends neither of those things, thus unfolding the catastrophe that is their current situation.(Jeno's always wanted some drama in their group, anyway.)





	the way change is inevitable (and sometimes good)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is my first fic - not that i've written but the first i'm posting here! i really love markhyuck n wanted to try writing them! i'm just writing here to caution a few swear words, but other than that, i hope you enjoy!!

    In a perfect life, a teenage boy would have hilarious, lenient parents, a younger brother they sneakily pick on, and a big bedroom, with walls clad in posters of hot girls and Fast and the Furious. Donghyuck’s life, however, is anything but that. His mother, a fortuneteller and an amateur baker, is more bizarre than funny, and his dad, well; Donghyuck would rather not give his opinion on. He is an only child; unless one considers the pet dog he had for two months until it one day “escaped” to its true owner (“I thought we bought it at Petsmart, dad.” “About that, son…”) More than that, throughout Donghyuck’s draggy, semi-eventful, seventeen years of life, the many difficult situations he has experienced brought him to realize that the Fast and the Furious franchise is anything but _gay_ culture.

    It is with said realization that Donghyuck finds uniqueness in himself, the same uniqueness those in his life recognize him for. Yet, it is with the same realization that Donghyuck finds himself in a rut, one that puts a dent in his newly polished togetherness; one that leaves him feeling ill, not like the time he drank the water from the pond by his home, but one that makes him wish he could disappear. Donghyuck, sarcastic, determined, and supposedly infatuated with Lucas of some group called NCT, was actually in love with Mark Lee – his other half, his longest memory, his best friend.

    (Donghyuck wonders if it’s too late to go back in time and postpone his gay awakening.)

    On a Thursday, the orange-haired hoodie collector finds himself at the grocery by his house, picking up what he needs for the weekend sleepover awaiting him and Mark. After practicing this tradition for over ten years, the pair knows better than to leave errands for the weekends consisting of TV-show binges and nighttime hikes. If anything, doing so leads to grocery-cart racing and a mean scolding from the ever-so familiar-faced grocery clerk named Muriel. As the sound of the scanner beeps over a bag of chocolate chips, Mark calls Donghyuck.

    It’s before Donghyuck can even usher out a greeting that Mark asks, “Did you get margarine instead of butter?”

    “Yes, dumbass. Must I remind you that you were the one who made the Rice Krispies taste like shit last time?” Donghyuck retorts, nodding thanks to the cashier as he grips two plastic bags in one hand, phone in the other.

    “Gotta be safe. I found this anime yesterday – seven seasons of sheer angst. Prepare yourself.”

    Donghyuck scoffs, “The hell are you trying to do, use my tears as cookie dough?”

    “We already did that when we decided to watch A Walk to Remember. Anyway, homework. I just wanted to make sure you got it. Get home safe!” Mark’s kind, adorable smile is damn near visible through the call and Donghyuck convinces his brain that his heart clenched as a warning of a stroke, not in fondness.

    “Don’t fall down the stairs…again.” Hanging up, he feels simultaneously better and worse, as if he was told he won the lottery only to find out his prizes were four dollars and a bag of Hot Cheetos. Everything that seemed so certain was beginning to collapse in a pitiful hopelessness, and Mark, caring, loving, Mark, was in the middle of it all – present and chaotic in his entirety.

    He arrives on Donghyuck’s doorstep the following afternoon holding nothing but his laptop and a bag of chips. It became kind of pointless to continue bringing duffel bags when Mark could just leave half of his closet and belongings with Donghyuck. At this present moment in time, Donghyuck is equally as used to it but half as sane, suddenly wanting to cry about his best friend changing in front of him and the way he grabs clothes from Donghyuck’s dresser like it’s all he’s ever known.

    “Hyuck. You okay?” Mark asks after changing, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder as they head to the living room. Donghyuck makes a noise of agreement, while stealing all of the blankets and prodding at Mark’s leg with his foot until Mark is forced to sit at the opposite end of the couch. These actions are normal – they are very, “Donghyuck-esque” as Mark likes to call it, and so whenever his best friend is a little more distant or a little more snarky than his usual amount, Mark knows better than to board the train to Teenage Drama.

    This time around, it feels a little different. As the night progresses, Donghyuck’s “Donghyuck-esque” is more cold than familiar. Unfortunately, no amount of time as friends could ever teach Mark what Donghyuck’s boundaries are, or whether he is overstepping them.

    So, Mark does what he at least knows is okay, and makes them each a cup of hot chocolate. Donghyuck’s mood was one that postponed their Rice Krispie baking session to the following afternoon, and Mark was more than okay with going a few hours marshmallow-less. More than anything, he wanted Donghyuck to talk to him, for Donghyuck to be okay. But the night ends with an indescribable silence. It makes him want to scream.

    Feeling better in the morning, Donghyuck awakens Mark with a poke to the side of his stomach.

    “Oi. If you don’t get up in fifteen seconds, I’m running downstairs and shoving every single banana pancake down my esophagus. At once.”

    “Won’t you choke?” Mark’s scratchy voice replies, rubbing his eyes as he sits up.

    “Hence the purpose of orange juice is for, dumbass. Come on!”

    To Mark, Donghyuck’s energy always reminded him of a puppy. With the exception of the two or three years of pre-pubescent inner turmoil, Donghyuck has always been quite the personality to have around. He’s cuddly, makes far too many remarks, dreams about the world yet curses its inconveniences, and there isn’t a person on Earth he fears the judgment of, all while being quite insecure in the comfort of his loneliness. Said qualities are ones Mark has come to love when he is around Donghyuck, and come to miss when he isn’t.

    Honestly speaking, Mark probably feels something more for his best friend, but for now, he isn’t quite sure, nor does he want to try and figure it out. At breakfast, as Rugrats plays reruns in the background of their conversation about the radio show NCT Night Night, Mark feels certain about one thing – he wants to do this with Donghyuck for a very, _very_ long time.

    Before he knows it, the week following their sleepover passes, and it's the next Friday when the boys are on their way to school, new memories of the next weekend sleepover awaiting them, fond and warm, the way they always are.

    Donghyuck is still acting strange.

    Mark notices it in Biology, when Donghyuck nudges Mark’s hand off the top of his thigh the moment it makes contact. Then again in Art, when Donghyuck gets paint on his cheek and looks like he wants to punch Mark, who wipes the paint of with his thumb. He’s feeling sour by lunch, because he promises he’s the most understanding a best friend can be, but there’s no way this is just one of Donghyuck’s moods if he’s leaving school property and not telling Mark why.

    He sits alone for the first twenty minutes, but is soon joined at the empty table by two of their friends, Jeno and Jaemin.

    “You good, buddy? Where’s Hyuck?” Jeno asks.

    “Left. ‘Dunno why.” He huffs, taking a bite of his apple and looking anywhere except the couple that sits before him. Jaemin giggles, reaching over to grip Mark’s arm, resting atop the stained cafeteria table.

    “Try to look nonchalant all you want, Markly. S’okay to be upset.” Like the supportive boyfriend he is, Jeno agrees with Jaemin’s comment, but Mark groans in response.

    “Upset about what? The fact he’s not eating with us one out of every single day of the year?” Jaemin gives him this look, one that reminds him of his mom when she disagrees with one of his more peculiar ideas.

    “No, that things have been different lately; that Hyuck’s your – our best friend but lately he’s being seeming more…closed off. We notice it too, okay?”

    Mark pauses, finally directing his attention on Jaemin, noting the way Jaemin’s eyes display concern despite the calmness of his voice.

    “Look I…I don’t know what’s going on with Hyuck, okay? It’s been worrying me sick as well, but I’m not sure how to approach the situation.” He pauses, before continuing promptly.

    “Remember a few years ago? The thing with Herin? It took me three arguments and a crying session just for him to tell me what happened.” Jaemin makes a sound of acknowledgment, though one that sounds like it’s a memory he wished not to recall.

    “Still. You’ve never been someone to be scared of facing your problems. What changes things now?”

    “…Stability? Change? We’re not getting younger, Jae. What if this is all some plan of his to gradually cut me out of his life?” To Mark’s suggestion, Jaemin quite literally cackles. It’s a laugh that, had Jaemin not been one of Mark’s best friends, would make Mark feel as though he was being teased.

    “If you think Donghyuck wants to do anything besides keep you in his life until you’re fighting over pudding flavours post-retirement, you’re whack.” Again, Jeno nods; smiling big at the way Mark gives him an apologetic look.

    “We all know I’d give him the freaking pudding.”

-

    Feeling slightly less nauseous after that strange, semi-intervention, Mark forks the left at the intersection dividing Donghyuck’s street and his own – Donghyuck’s being the left. This isn’t a usual Friday, in that the supposed weekend sleepover awaiting them feels nothing like a fun time. And being the person that he is and always has been, Mark has absolutely no game plan whatsoever. Donghyuck and he have always been able to “figure it out”. Though, some sweets and a couple of DVDs may have helped a little, in Jeno’s humble opinion.

    Donghyuck swings open the door, hair a little shaggy, face still glowing and alluring. The punched-gut feeling returns to the pit of Mark’s stomach.

    “Hi.” He says, out of breath.

    “You don’t come bearing gifts? Shame.” The playful tone in his best friend’s voice is the only thing keeping Mark from teetering off the edge of sanity.

    “Guess I should’ve listened to Jeno’s advice.”

    “Always listen to Jeno’s advice.” The door swings further open, and Mark takes off his sneakers to place in between Donghyuck’s dress shoes and his mother’s penny loafers, a spot naturally made his and never once questioned.

    “I wanted to talk to you.” Mark starts, pretending not to notice the pause in Donghyuck’s step, abrupt yet quickly fleeting.

    “Figured as much. Sleepovers don’t usually start ‘till after you’ve panicked from having forgotten to do your laundry.” Mark wants to say something funny in return, and get a banter going as if to prove to Mark that there’s at least some familiarity present between them in their current friendship-road bump.

    Instead, he opts for a humourless snort. They sit cross-legged in front of each other on the sofa, and Mark leans over to brush some hair out of Donghyuck’s face. Donghyuck lets him this time.

    “Are you okay?” He begins, and adds, “Be honest with me. Okay, Hyuck? I’m here for you, and you know that.”

    Donghyuck asks a question in reply, “What makes you ask that?”

    “Well,” Mark takes a good look at Donghyuck before he begins to explain himself. He stares at Donghyuck’s ears, tinted with a slight red, though due to the warmth of the room or nervousness, Mark isn’t sure. He looks at the way Donghyuck’s eyeliner, usually perfect and precise is more smudged today, but the way his eyes still gaze strikingly at anything it sees nonetheless. On his fingers are neon Band-Aids, which Mark knows is more of a stylistic choice than the result of injuries. These quirky details make Mark feel something he wants to say is jealousy. Donghyuck has always been indescribably eye-catching.

    “You seem...no – lately, things have been different. Not the kind of different that’s normal different, it's like an off-putting different. It’s been worrying me shitless – because I know you like your distance and that’s more than okay with me, but I just…I don’t know. I don’t want us to change.”

    “Don’t want us to change, huh? Maybe that’s the problem.” Donghyuck’s voice sounds strained, like he had to force his words out and there’s a weight pressing on his throat.

    “What do you mean, Hyuck? What’s wrong with us now?” Mark’s visibly hurt, lips slightly agape and eyes clouded with disbelief. It’s his view of Donghyuck that makes Mark’s clouded eyes near precipitation – the orange-haired boy is fidgeting with his thumbs, not even looking at Mark, and his mouth, protruded in a pout, trembles.

    “Hyuck, please, tell me. I just want to fix this. I’m sorry.”

    “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for? Anyway – don’t. Don’t apologize when you’re not at fault for anything, okay? You never have been, you probably never will be. I guess no matter how much I try to blame you I’ll always know that it’s a me problem. So don’t.”

    Mark’s heart clenches. He hates this. He hates this so much.

    “I don’t want it to be just a you problem though, Hyuck. Let me take some of the fucking weight, please. Don’t let yourself hurt alone. You’re my best friend.” Mark pulls him into a hug, though it’s more of just Mark’s arms around Donghyuck’s unmoving torso.

    Then, Donghyuck’s crying, the sound bitter and foreign to a boy who’s never been uncertain as to whatever this was. Mark’s crying too, a lot less angry but a lot more afraid, wondering if there were anything in the world he could do to help, anything more significant than a hug and a stupid pat to the back.

    “I know. I think you should go.” Donghyuck says.

    Just like that, the years of tradition, decorated by baked goods, laughter, and an impressive list of completed films, dissipates in pitiful brokenness.

    Later that night, Donghyuck sits, tears falling like shooting stars. Out the window the constellations he loves shines with brightness more intense than ever before, a sight he'd regret not watching if only he'd known. Cars drive past, sometimes honking sometimes not, and if he really focused, the sounds of children playing in the house across his could be heard. The world, tragically mundane and inexplicably large, seemed to remain unsurprisingly still. And yet, now without Mark, he was unsure if his would ever stop turning.

    The next Monday at lunch, Jeno is the one to intervene with Mark’s dilemma.

    “Hi Mark!” He says, too cheerful for Mark’s current brooding state. Mark smiles at him anyway, because Jeno is a little too sweet to infect with the sweet plague of adolescent angst.

    “Did you try talking to Hyuck?”

    “I did. Didn’t go too well, though.”

    “Wanna talk about it?” Mark contemplates saying no. It would be far easier to ignore this issue until the weekend, but the eye bags that weigh heavy on his face push him to vent it all out.

    “Donghyuck didn’t budge. He said that it wasn’t my fault, but he wants to deal with all himself. What kind of best friend am I to let him suffer alone? Before that, too, I told him I didn’t want anything to change. But you know what he said to me? “Don’t want us to change, huh? Maybe that’s the problem.” What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Mark groans, burying his face in his arms. In front of him, the far less dense Jeno’s jaw drops in realization.

    “Mark…Do you think that, maybe, Hyuck likes you?”

    Mark’s breath hitches in his throat.

    “Like… _likes_ me? There’s no way.” He shakes his head.

    “Do you not want him to?” Jeno replies.

    “I-I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about it, I guess.”

    “How long have you guys been best friends?”

    “That’s not what I mean.” What Mark means, is that he has always known the answer, but known equally as well that he hates it. He means that Donghyuck is his best friend but also someone he never wants to lose, not in the way that he’d miss the teasing and fake fights, rather in the way that he’d miss hugs, and wearing Donghyuck’s clothes, and the way doing something as simple as looking at Donghyuck put Mark in a state of happiness. He means that he loves Donghyuck, a lot, and that Mark’s density, complimented by his inability to read signals happens to be a combination that has set him up for utter failure.

    He sets out for Donghyuck’s house again later in the afternoon, after school has officially ended, and second after passing by the convenience store, this time prepared to bear gifts. He’s fumbling more than a shitty football player, doing everything from wrongly swiping his debit card to tripping up Donghyuck’s doorsteps. However, now’s not the time for the reenactment of a slapstick comedy. There’s a boy on the other side of the mahogany door that he loves – that he needs to apologize to.

    Donghyuck opens it after the sixth knock.

    “Listen...I’m an idiot.” Mark says, and it doesn’t take more than that to let him inside. Donghyuck’s always been like that, compliant; although hidden by a thick wall of judgment and question.

    “First, I took Jeno’s advice this time.” He hands Donghyuck a Beanie Baby and four Kinder Surprise eggs, everything still in the unlabeled plastic bag handed to him fifteen minutes ago. Donghyuck still hasn’t said a word, but the sounds of his munching on the milk chocolate are somehow a go signal for Mark to continue.

    “I’m sorry. And I know why this time.”

    “What made you figure it out?” Donghyuck finally says. Mark thinks, wondering if it was Jeno’s romantic questioning that led to his revelation.

    Mark settles for, “It kind of just…happened.” Then, he continues.

    “You’re like...my earliest memory. Every picture I have in a diaper shows you next to me in the same print. You are quite literally the most important person in my life. And I don’t know if I was just scared or if I’m truly a piece of shit, but things started to change a few months ago and instead of trying to understand I wanted to push it away. Losing you fucking terrifies me, okay? I didn’t want it to happen. But I’m sorry, Hyuck. I’m really, really sorry.”

    “What was gonna change? If you let it, I mean.” Donghyuck asked, with a voice sounding surer of itself than its owner.

    Anyone you ask knows that Mark was a golden child. He went to Mass every Sunday with his parents, had a fantastic academic record, was athletic, and even played instruments. Mark was every senior’s favourite youngin’ and every preteen’s first crush – Mark was perfect.

    Yet he believes that his entire life was driven by worry. He sees his accomplishments as the results of thoughts that pressured him, ones that told him not being the best meant disappointment from those around him. This earned idea-turned-reality of his life supported his mental stability all throughout childhood. And now, with the only consistent aspect of it eagerly anticipating the unleashing of Mark’s hidden truths, he knew everything was about to change.

    “I’d have told you I loved you. Like, love, love you. I love you in the other way, too, but I mean in it the way that I want to hold you. And hug you. And kiss you, if you let me. I want to understand, even though I’m pretty shit at it. I just really, really love you, Donghyuck.” It’s like he’s drunk; in finishing his spiel, Mark feels somewhere in between barfing and passing out. He looks up, and Donghyuck’s smiling cutely, eyes looking softly at the mess of a human in front of him.

    “Took you long enough.” Donghyuck replies. Mark lets out a weird noise that sounds like a wheeze.

    “That’s all you’re gonna say?” He asks.

    “I’m sorry for getting mad at your accidental friend-zoning. I guess I love you too. A lot. I thought loving you as more than the best friend you’ve always been would ruin us – ruin all that’s ever been safe, and steady in my life. I’ve wanted to kiss your face so many times. You should’ve seen how much my non-believing ass prayed to God that Wong Yukhei would move to our school just so I could move on and save my life from complete disaster.”

    Mark laughs, “Wouldn’t have helped now.”

    “Guess not.”

    There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere, one that changes the tension into a lighthearted, airy feeling. It’s new, and while Mark would usually reject new faster than he would a person of the opposite gender, this time, he welcomes it.

    “Can I kiss you?” He asks, so quiet as if to save the serenity of this time. Lost of breath, Donghyuck simply nods, lips already parted, eyes already closed. But Mark wants to revel in this moment. He stares at the way Donghyuck’s eyelashes sit atop his warm-toned skin, aware that every small detail on his face is there for a reason. Slowly, he reaches up a nervous hand, and brushes away the hair that falls just above his eyebrows. He cups Donghyuck’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb ever so carefully, and leans in.

    It boggles Mark’s mind – how someone so present in his life, someone there like a reflex motion looked so different, so new in the moonlight. The proximity of Donghyuck’s breathtaking features is the last thing he sees before his eyes close.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! i'd really appreciate any comments or criticism about the fic, as it was the first wip i've finished in quite some time n i could use some feedback! again thank you all for reading, until next time! ♡


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